Short Wave
by Cats070911
Summary: Tommy finally thinks he has his life sorted when two weeks in his past catches up with him. Will this new development strengthen or unravel his relationship with Barbara?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** all usual disclaimers apply.

* * *

Tommy knew the exact moment that fish and chips over a pint at the pub with his colleague became dating his future wife. One word had been all it took in response to his question. "Will I buy another round?"

"Yes thanks, Tommy."

She called him by his name. For ten years it had been her barrier, her last defence against any suggestion that they were more than friendly colleagues. They had been effectively a couple for nearly three months. Every night they had dinner together, either at the pub or his house. They had been to the movies, to a concert, to a performance of Wagner in Hyde Park and even to three West End shows. Now one word transformed all of those 'catch ups' into dates.

Lynley smiled so hard that his cheeks ached. Barbara blushed and looked at her glass, trying to pretend nothing had happened. But it had, and Tommy's first reaction was relief. Barbara felt it too. He had not imagined that her eyes had been looking more softly at him, or that she touched his arm, or shoulder or hand more often. They were finally allowing themselves to express their feelings and fall deeply in love.

Tommy still waited three nights before he kissed her. That first night, when she called him Tommy, he put his arm around her shoulder like he often did, and pulled her gently into his side. They walked home from the pub slowly, adjusting to the increased feelings flowing between them. At her door, he softly kissed her head and bid her goodnight. Her eyes thanked him. This was new, and precious, and should not be rushed.

On the second night, Barbara freely called him by name over dinner. He had bought tickets to a play, a political satire that made them both laugh uproariously. At one point he took her hand and held it. When she looked across, he smiled reassuringly. Barbara blushed and grinned shyly. Her grip had tightened around his fingers.

Tonight had been the third night. As planned Tommy picked up some curries, and they ate at his flat. As they watched the news, he put his arm around her. Barbara snuggled into his side. There was a story about a violent death at Earls Court, but they were not on call, and Tommy was not thinking about murder. He muted the news then gently stroked her hair. "Barbara?"

"Mmm?"

"May I kiss you?"

"I was beginning to think you'd never ask."

After all these years of knowing Barbara as a friend, Tommy was nervous about the next step. A hundred negative possibilities had run through his mind in recent days. He wanted the kiss to be perfect - not too strong, not insipid, not boring. What he feared most was that they would start to laugh. Now he had asked, he had to act. His head moved closer to hers. He could smell vindaloo on her breath which tickled his cheek when she sighed. He brought his other arm around to encircle her. Her arms slipped around his waist. In what felt like the super-slow motion of a movie, their faces drifted together. Tommy was surprised to hear a satisfied groan when their lips finally met. He could not tell if it was his or Barbara's.

The gentleness of their first contact soon gave way to savage need before settling back into a relaxed steadiness. Love and affection, desire and longevity - somehow one kiss had encompassed their past and their future. "Will you marry me?" he whispered into her ear as he nuzzled into her neck.

"Yes."

"I love you." Tommy had known she would agree. They needed each other. Almost since the first day they worked together, they had shared something unique. No one else would understand, but Tommy did not care. They had finally allowed themselves to ignore social dictates and give in to what they felt. They could be happy. They would be happy.

"Good, because I love you, Tommy."

Tommy stood and Barbara accepted his hand. They kissed again before he led them upstairs. Slowly, between long kisses, they undressed each other. Playfully, Tommy pushed Barbara onto the bed and stood back admiring her. "You're more beautiful than I imagined. We've waited far too long for this."

He bent down and began to kiss her stomach. He cursed when his phone rang. "Go away."

"It might be important."

"Nothing is more important than my business here." As he continued to kiss his way up her body, his phone rang again, then beeped with a voicemail message. "I should have left it downstairs."

Tommy gently lowered himself and rolled Barbara to face him. They had just begun an unhurried kiss when the chirpy music of her phone disturbed the moment. "Bloody hell," she said, "not now!" The phone stopped and his rang again. "We have to answer it or we'll never..."

Muttering about the bloody Met, Tommy snatched up his phone. "Lynley!"

Tommy listened to Hillier and frowned. "Yes, I knew Sally Gladwin, but that was years ago." His face drained of colour. "Yes, Sir."

Tommy finished the call and turned back to Barbara. "Remember that woman on the news who was murdered?"

"Yes, but we're not on call. Why can't Hanson do it?"

"Her name was Sally Gladwin. I knew her years ago. Hillier wants me to go to the station immediately and bring my solicitor."

Barbara sat up and put her arm around his shoulder. "Surely he can't think... Besides, you have an alibi. You've been with me all afternoon and evening. Come on. Get dressed and let's sort this out."

"I didn't do it."

"I know that! This is ridiculous. How did you know her anyway?"

"We had a fling. It was eight years ago. Before I was married."

"Odd that they suspect you."

"I wanted to make love to you."

"So did I. We will, but we have to fix this first."

* * *

Hillier guided Tommy into his office where his family solicitor was already waiting. "Thank you, Havers. We have this from here," Hillier said condescendingly.

"Barbara stays. She was with me all afternoon and evening."

"That's right, Sir. There was no way the DI could have murdered that woman."

"No one is accusing you of murder, Tommy. We have the man responsible in custody."

Tommy looked at Barbara then Hillier. "Then I don't understand why I'm here."

"I'm afraid the matter is a bit delicate. Sergeant, please go home or wait outside."

"No, Barbara. There's nothing you cannot hear."

Tommy's solicitor, Brandon Fothergill, stepped forward. He was a slight man with grey hair and thick glasses. Dressed in an immaculately tailored navy suit, he looked every inch the solicitor to an aristocrat. "This is a personal matter, Lord Asherton, you might want to reconsider."

"Barbara stays."

Hillier shrugged. "As you wish. At the crime scene we found something that indicated you and Sally were once close."

Tommy was puzzled. "What did you find?"

"There was a letter addressed to you and some other paperwork."

"You brought me in here for a letter from someone I knew eight years ago?"

"Not quite. There is a legacy too. How well did you know her?"

"She left me money? We had a fling, nothing more. It lasted about two weeks. Sally had just moved over from Australia. She was a nurse of some sort and was going to work at the Chelsea and Westminster Hospital, I think. I liked her. We had fun, but it was never serious for either of us."

"Well it became serious," Fothergill said, "you are the father of her child."

"Me? No!"

"You're saying it's impossible?" Hillier asked.

Tommy looked at Barbara. She had paled slightly but showed no emotion. "I admit we had sex, but we took precautions."

"This is important m'lord," Fothergill said, "are you sure there is no likelihood of you having impregnated her?"

"For heaven's sake, Fothergill! You make her sound like a stud mare. There is no...," Tommy paused. "There may have been one instance when our... contraception leaked."

"Leaked?"

"Yes, leaked." Tommy looked at Barbara and wished he had acceded to Hillier's demand.

"How?" his solicitor demanded.

"Must we do this?" Tommy pleaded.

"We can ask Sergeant Havers to leave if you'd prefer."

Barbara coughed. "I am not a delicate flower. I do understand how contraception works or doesn't. Just tell them, Tommy."

Tommy noticed the look Hillier gave them when Barbara mentioned his name. It hardly mattered now. He wished he could be anywhere but this room. "I think she may have accidentally bitten the condom when using oral sex as foreplay."

Hillier gasped, and Tommy was relieved to see Barbara suppressing a grin. She knew he had slept with more than his fair share of women. That fact was unlikely to deter her from their relationship. Having a child, however, may affect things significantly.

"Where is this child?" Tommy asked.

"In Interview Room 2. He witnessed the murder and is being debriefed by child protection officers."

"He?" Learning he may have a son, Tommy struggled to breathe. If the lad were his, then he would be his heir. Tommy did not want the next Lord Asherton to be the result of a loveless romp. He wanted it to be Barbara's son. He wanted him to be a product of enduring love.

Fothergill also realised the implications and quickly sprung to Tommy's defence. "We will need more than the mother's word and Lord Asherton's name on his birth certificate. We will demand full DNA matching."

"She put my name on his birth certificate?"

Hiller looked across. "Yes, she registered him as George Thomas Lynley, father Thomas Lynley, occupation - policeman. It seems she was unaware of your status. When you see him, I doubt you'll need DNA proof."

Tommy felt numb. "George? I have a son named George? That was my grandfather's name."

Fothergill seemed lost for answers. "What are your instructions m'lord?"

Tommy looked up. "Contact Lady Asherton please and inform her. Ask her to come down tomorrow. Arrange any testing to confirm it, but something tells me it is true."

"This is a copy of the letter she left you," Hillier began.

"You opened it?"

"I didn't, no. It was initially thought material to the case until George told the police who murdered his mother. It was her boyfriend. The child was punched trying to save his mother. It's not serious, but we want to have him examined later. The child protection people are with him now, trying to understand if there was any other... abuse."

"Abuse? You mean... sexual?"

"Yes, or other beatings. The boy was not saying much."

Tommy was shaking his head. He had no words. People started talking around him. All he could do was think about missing the formative years of his son's life and how he may have been in danger. Finally, he felt Barbara's hand on his arm. "Let's wait in your office. They can find us there when George is ready."

"Mmm. What am I going to say to him?"

"You'll know what to say at the time. Come on." Tommy nodded and let her lead him from the room. "I'm sorry, Barbara. I'm sorry."


	2. Chapter 2

"Stop apologising, Tommy. You have nothing to apologise for."

"I had no idea. If I'd known... I don't know what I would have done."

"It's not your fault. Sally understood and chose to have George, but she obviously knew you two were not meant to be together."

They finally reached the privacy of his office. Tommy shut the door and turned to her. "What am I going to do? I don't want a son."

"Really? I thought you needed an heir."

Tommy took her in his arms. "I don't want _this_ son. I wanted my heir to be _your_ son and to have been born out of love, and grow up with your level head and my good looks." He tried a half-hearted grin.

Barbara smiled and shook her head. "Too late. Your heir is here, unless you want me to take him to the Tower of London then send in someone to smother him..."

"Of course not. I will happily pay for everything and ensure he gets a good education, but I'll ask Fothergill if his illegitimacy can be used to prevent him being my heir. I will find him a good boarding school. He can't go to Eton until he's thirteen, but there are good prep schools that take boarders from age seven. That way..."

Barbara shoved him away. "No, Tommy! No!"

He walked to the window and stared up at the few stars that were not obscured by heavy cloud. He slowly ran his fingers through his hair as he tried not to panic. "You think I'm being selfish don't you?"

"Not exactly. I think you are trying to fight reality and reverting to being a poncy aristocrat who cares more about his reputation than his son. That's not the man I love. Tommy, there's a seven-year-old boy in there who watched as his mother murdered by probably the most dominant male figure in his life. None of this is his fault. He needs his father, not a man who pays for everything but who never wants anything to do with him. He needs someone who will love him."

Lynley ran his hand through his hair again. "I don't know if I can, Barbara."

"You will. He's your son. Don't they say parents automatically love their children?"

"We haven't seen much evidence of that in our careers. What if I can't love him? And what about us? I can't expect you to marry me now that there's been a... material change in circumstances."

"He's a little boy, not a business deal gone wrong!"

"I can't burden you with my problems."

"I thought that was what love was about." Barbara walked over to join him. "Are you withdrawing your proposal?"

Tommy turned and stroked her face. "No, I love you. I want to be with you, but I don't want you to feel obliged. Taking me on is one thing, taking on a child as well is very different. He will probably be a very difficult child. He may need psychological help..."

"Stop it! If he does, then we will get him the best help we can."

"We?"

Barbara nodded. "I haven't waited this long to abandon you now. He's your son, Tommy. I'll love him as if he was ours. But I can't marry you if you intend to banish him. George needs us and I for one will not abandon him."

Tommy hugged her close. "I should have married you years ago."

"Yes, you should have." She reached up and touched his face. "We can manage this, Tommy."

"What if he doesn't like us? What if he's grown up to hate me for not being there? What if I'm a bad father?"

"Tommy, you're doing it again. I can't imagine how strange it must be to meet your child for the first time, but don't imagine the worst until it happens. What does Sally's letter say anyway?"

Tommy retrieved it from his pocket and read it to Barbara. He looked up to see tears running silently down her face. "Barbara?"

"That's so sad. Imagine writing a letter like that in case something ever happened."

Tommy embraced her and held her tightly. "She was right. We would never have been suited to marriage. I'm amazed though that she made such careful provisions for him. Why give him my name if she never intended for him to find me?"

"She said that she would tell him who you were and that you never knew she was pregnant, but I think she hoped that one day he would find you. She had no idea you were an earl?"

"It never came up in conversation. Sally was refreshing because she didn't know who I was. She liked me, not my title or my wallet."

"I..."

"I know." Tommy kissed her, no longer caring if someone walked in and discovered their relationship. He was happy that she kissed him back. He could not lose Barbara. He needed her more than ever.

There was a knock on the door. Barbara stepped away. "Come in," Tommy called out.

"Excuse me, Sir." A nervous young constable stuck his head into the room, "They asked me to fetch you and Sergeant Havers."

"Thank you, Beatty."

* * *

Hillier and Fothergill met them in the interview room foyer. "They've finished interviewing him. He's very tired and wary," Hillier told them.

The solicitor looked self-important. Tommy wanted to hit him, but instead listened politely. "Legally m'lord you are his sole guardian and they cannot take him into long-term care without your approval. Ms Gladwin had received very good advice. She has no other living relatives and made very sure there was no obstacle to you being seen as his father. Of course if the DNA results show you are not the biological father then we can challenge it, and will win."

"I'm sure he'll be my son. Sally wouldn't have been so thorough if he wasn't. What happens after we meet?"

Fothergill shrugged. "If the child protection officers have no concerns about his physical or psychological well-being, then as his parent and legal guardian it's up to you."

Tommy nodded and looked at Barbara. "We'll take him home."

"Are there any friends or neighbours he trusts?" Barbara asked. "It might be helpful if someone he knows reassured him."

"It seems her boyfriend controlled her friends. I don't think she had any that were not his friends," Hillier said dismissively. "Lynley, the child protection officers will be with you when you meet George. They are concerned that he might react badly to you. If he does, just leave the room. Ah, right on cue. Rose Kettlewood, this is DI Thomas Lynley."

Tommy extended his hand. "Nice to meet you and this is my partner, Detective Sergeant Barbara Havers."

"Hi," Barbara said awkwardly.

The young woman looked them both up and down. "Mr Lynley, before we meet George, I have some questions for you."

"Of course."

"Have you ever had any court orders taken against you for violence, sexual crimes or drugs?"

"Er, no." He glanced at Barbara who nodded. "I had a complaint at work about excessive force, but I was exonerated."

Rose nodded. "I assume some of that goes with the job."

"Yes."

"I take it from what your solicitor said that you can afford the upkeep of a child."

"Yes."

"Are you in a homosexual or other unorthodox relationship?"

"No. What do you mean by unorthodox?"

"Believe me Mr Lynley, we come across all sorts. I had one man who believed he was married to his goat."

"Nothing like that."

"What aspect of any relationship concerned you?"

Tommy could see he had raised Rose's curiosity. "Nothing, merely the detective coming out."

"Are you in a relationship?"

Barbara was standing behind Rose and he could see her trying to look nonchalant. "Yes, I'm engaged and will be getting married soon."

"You are?" Hillier and Fothergill managed in a strangely harmonious unison.

"Yes."

"Does your fiancee have a history of..."

"No. She's a policewomen with no history of marrying goats."

Barbara made a strangled noise and Tommy tried hard not to smile. He understood Rose was just doing her job, but the questions, and underlying assertion that he needed to be vetted before he could meet his son, rankled.

"How large is your flat?"

"I have a townhouse in Belgravia of around 35 squares. Four bedrooms, three bathrooms, and two separate living areas."

"Oh!"

Fothergill stepped forward. "I assured you that Lord Asherton has adequate means to look after his son."

Rose looked confused. "I thought you are a policeman?"

"I am. I'm also the 8th Earl of Asherton."

"You understand I have to ask these questions."

"Yes."

"When George was removed from the house nothing was with him. He has no spare clothes, no pyjamas, not even a toothbrush. We can provide an emergency aid kit for tonight, but you will need to take him shopping tomorrow. Unless you can gain access to his house?"

Tommy had not thought about those practicalities. He looked across at Barbara. "Barbara's good with children. We'll manage," he said trying not to sound out of his depth.

Rose turned to Barbara. "Are you Mr, er Lord Lynley's fiancee?"

"Surely not!"

Everyone turned to look at Hillier. Barbara's smile told Tommy she was enjoying shocking him. "Yes, I'm Tommy's partner. Buying clothes and looking after George will be no problem. Tommy's mother will be down tomorrow. Tommy owns a property in Cornwall. I was thinking it might be good to take George there for few weeks."

"We would prefer that he was settled into a routine quickly. He has to attend school and..."

"His mother was just murdered in front of him and he is about to meet his father for the first time. There is only two weeks of the school term left. I don't think his education will suffer but his mental health might. My future stepson needs our attention and love more than anything right now. There will be less pressure on him away from the city."

"You make a persuasive case Ms Havers."

As Tommy listened to her, Barbara reminded Tommy of a lioness protecting her offspring. Any doubts he may have had about her coping as a future Lady Asherton were swept away. Her strength gave him courage and for the first time he began to think their funny instant family might just work. He wanted to meet the boy. "Can we meet George please?"

"Yes, of course. Don't be disheartened if he reacts badly. The idea of having a father is new to him too."

Tommy nodded then turned to Barbara. "Ready?"

"Yep."

"You can't take Havers with you," Hillier protested.

"Why not?"

Hillier seemed to search for a reason. "It might confuse him."

Tommy ignored him and guided Barbara to the door. "Barbara has a way with kids."

Barbara stopped him. "The AC might be right. You need to meet him first. I'll be right here if you need me."

"Barbara, please."

"I'll meet him soon. We don't want to overwhelm him."

"No. We're meeting him together. It's important he understands that we are a family."

Barbara surprised him by leaning over and kissing him. "Okay."

Tommy opened the door and froze. Sitting on a chair was a miniature version of himself. The boy looked up and flicked a long lock of hair out of his left eye. "G'day, Dad."


	3. Chapter 3

"Hello, George."

Barbara had been right. He felt an instant bond with the boy. A completely new feeling of love enveloped him. He moved slowly across the room. He wanted to hug his son but as he inched closer, George pushed further back into his chair. When the lad had called him Dad, he had expected him to rush into his arms and everything to suddenly be normal. Life was never going to be that simple. He imagined how frightening the whole situation must be to a child.

The second social worker rose and shook his hand. "Mr Lynley, I'm Moira Smith. Nice to meet you." Tommy shook hands without taking his eyes from his son. Behind him, he heard Barbara introduce herself.

Tommy reached for Barbara's hand. "George, this is my girlfriend, Barbara."

"Hi, George."

"G'day," the boy said warily.

"Can we sit next to you so we can talk?"

"You may." Tommy noticed George raise his eyebrows at Barbara's grammar. The boy seemed smart; perhaps too smart.

Barbara pulled up two chairs and sat in the furthest one. Tommy sat down but made sure he was not too close to George. "That's better," she said as she gave George a big smile.

"What do you want to know?" the boy asked suspiciously.

Rose came and bent down next to the boy. "George, remember your manners." She turned to Tommy and Barbara. "He's exhausted."

"Argh." George gave Rose a disdainful look. Tommy cringed even though he understood exactly what George was thinking. His son was haughty and arrogant, two things Barbara hated. He glanced over to see Barbara smirking slightly. She had seen the resemblance but seemed undeterred by George's gruffness.

Rose seemed intimidated. "Maybe it's better if I leave you alone to get to know each other." She turned back to George. "I told you that your father is a police officer, so you know you can trust him. He won't hurt you, but I'll just be outside. If you need me just call."

"Uh-huh." The boy nodded but continued to scrutinise the two adults from the back of his chair. His reluctance was understandable but Tommy was at a loss to know what to say.

Barbara, as usual, came to his rescue. "Your dad looks a lot like you, doesn't he?"

George looked up at Barbara. "Yeah, but he's older, so I look like him."

Tommy looked at Barbara and apologised with his eyes. She nodded then moved a bit closer. "That's true, I hadn't thought of that. Had you seen pictures of him before?"

"Yeah. Mum had one in her room of Dad on a boat. She used to show me sometimes."

"I think I have that one at home," Tommy said trying to sound cheerful. "We went on a trip down the Thames."

"That sounds like fun," Barbara said, "maybe your dad can take you one day soon."

George nodded then quickly wiped a tear from his cheek and sat more rigidly in his seat. Tommy handed him his handkerchief. "Uncle Pat tore it up. He said that… I… didn't have a dad."

"Well, you do." Tommy leant forward in his seat and looked his son in the eye. It was then that he noticed the bruising and swelling under his right eye.

"I know. Mummy said... that you would be my dad one day. She said you'd take me to see The Ashes."

"Yes, I'll take you. Of course, I'll take you. George, until tonight, I didn't know about you. Your mother never told me about you. If I'd known, I would have been your dad all the time."

"Mummy said..." George began to cry.

Suddenly the arrogant little mini-adult sounded like the scared seven-year-old that Tommy knew was hiding behind his bravado. Tommy had no idea what to say. He looked over at Barbara. She knelt in front of George and put her hand gently on his arm. She tilted her head. Tommy understood and slid onto the floor next to her.

"It's okay, George. What did mummy say?" Barbara prompted softly.

"If Uncle Pat hurt her, I have to do what Dad says."

Tommy fought back his own tears. "I'll look after you, George."

"Please don't send me back to Uncle Pat. I hate Uncle Pat."

Tommy was affected by the vehemence of George's assertion of hatred. His son had suffered and he had not been there for him. Tommy swallowed hard and reached out to take his son's hand. "I won't George, I promise. He's going to prison where he can't harm anyone again."

"Okay."

George moved forward on his chair. His legs dangled over the edge and swung back and forth. Tommy pulled him off the seat into a bear hug. "I won't let anyone hurt you, George."

Two little hands grabbed the neck of his shirt and hung on. Tommy was overwhelmed by a range of emotions he could barely name. As he cradled George's head against his chest, he felt the reassurance of Barbara's arm around him. He could never make up for what had happened in the past, but he was determined that George would have nothing but love going forward.

After a few minutes, George tried to blow his nose. Tommy released his grip and sat him back on his chair. "You're going to come and live with Barbara and me. You'll be safe with us. Do you think you'll like that?"

George looked Barbara up and down. "Will you be my new mummy?"

"No one will ever replace your mummy, George, but you and I are going to be really good friends."

George looked from Barbara to Tommy and back. "She seems nice," he told his father, who suppressed a smile.

Tommy looked lovingly at Barbara. "She is. Very."

"My friend Paul has a new mummy."

"Does he?" Barbara asked.

"His first mummy went to Scotland. His new mummy makes chocolate cake."

"Do you like chocolate cake?"

"Yes."

Tommy could imagine George's next question. It was too early to subject the child to Barbara's cooking. "Do you know who makes a great chocolate cake?"

George shook his head. "No."

"My mummy, your grandma. She lives on a farm in Cornwall, but she's coming down to meet you tomorrow."

"Is she bringing cake?" George's eyes lit up.

Tommy hesitated, but Barbara nodded. "Yes, she'll have chocolate cake. She couldn't bake one because Cornwall is a long way away, but she'll have one for you."

"I'm hungry."

Tommy looked at his watch. It was nearly midnight. "It's late now, but Barbara makes great toast."

"With Vegemite?"

Tommy frowned. "Er, no. I think I have some Marmite."

George screwed up his face as if he had just been offered dog food. "Gross! Do you have honey?"

Tommy quickly ran through the contents of his cupboard. "Yes, we have honey. Any particular brand?"

"No." George looked at him as if he was strange. Tommy was beginning to see that he had a lot to learn about parenting.

* * *

It was over an hour later before they were able to go home. George had to be examined by a doctor and Tommy had to sign countless forms. He returned from Hillier's office to find George asleep on a bench with his head in Barbara's lap.

"I feel guilty waking him," he whispered.

"He's exhausted. He'll be more comfortable in a bed."

Tommy leant down and kissed the top of her head. "You must be exhausted too."

"It has been a long night. What did the doctor say?"

"There's no evidence of ongoing abuse of any kind. Of course we don't know what's he witnessed over time."

Barbara reached out and took Tommy's hand. "He'll be okay. He's like you, so I'm sure he'll be resilient."

"A bit too much like me." Barbara laughed softly and squeezed his hand.

Tommy picked up George as gently as he could. The boy muttered and stirred but was soon asleep again. Despite the law, Tommy let him lie down next to Barbara on the backseat for the short drive home.

As Tommy carried him upstairs, they decided that undressing him might wake him. "Just take off his coat and shoes," Barbara said. "Where are you going?"

"To the spare room."

"That's not good. If he wakes up, he'll be alone in a place he doesn't know. I'll take the spare room and he can sleep with you. He won't be as scared that way."

"You're not staying in the spare room."

"Why not?"

"George's not the only Lynley that's scared tonight."

"Sook."

"No, seriously. I love you, and I'm not having you shunted into the spare room."

With his son cuddled up against his shoulder, Tommy used his free hand to feel around for the switch on his bedside light. They gently manoeuvred George out of his coat and undid his shoes before laying him gently on the bed. Tommy retrieved a pair of pyjamas from his dresser and gave Barbara the top half. "This is not quite how I imagined spending our first night in bed together."

"Me either. Still life is not boring."

They quickly stripped off and after Tommy gave Barbara a quick guided tour of his ensuite, they climbed into bed beside George. "Should I leave the light on?"

"Yes, it might help if he wakes up and doesn't recognise where he is."

"Don't lie alone over there," he said, "come here."

"We might wake him."

"I wasn't going to..."

"I know. I just meant... we might wake him."

Tommy put his arm over her and pulled her against his tee-shirt. "You were right. When I first saw him something changed. Without knowing him, I felt I did. It was as if I'd always loved him and that I'd do anything to protect him."

"I'm happy for you. He's a lovely boy."

Tommy detected a slight catch in her voice. "Barbara?"

"Mmm?"

"I love you. Having George doesn't change that. In some ways watching the two of you together intensified it. I know this isn't the ideal start to a marriage, but we'll make it work. I guarantee it." Tommy sealed his promise with a loving kiss. Barbara's arm tightened over him as she kissed him back. "And we'll find some time alone soon so we can make love properly."

She sighed. "I'd like that, but right now we both need sleep." This time Barbara kissed him before rolling over and snuggling against the length of his body. Within a minute they were both asleep.

* * *

"Mum! No! Mu-uuuu-ummm!"

Tommy woke to the terrified screams beside him. George was thrashing on the bed having a nightmare. Barbara leapt out of bed and rushed around the other side. "It's alright, George," she said softly as she stroked his head and gently shook him awake.

The boy sat up and looked bewildered. "I... Mum... she's never coming back, is she?"

Barbara passed the boy some tissues then climbed into bed beside him. "No, she can't. If she'd had a choice, she'd never have left you."

Tommy felt helpless as tears rolled silently down his son's face. George sniffed and wiped his face on the sleeve of his shirt. He had no sooner cleaned it than tears again streaked his cheeks. "Sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry, George," Barbara said as she put her arm around the boy's shoulders. "It's okay to cry." George turned to her and began to sob hard.

Tommy remembered watching Peter at the same age trying to be brave and not cry when their father had died. Tommy winced as he remembered what he had said as he pushed his brother away. "Don't be a baby, Peter. You're too old to cry." Tommy's anger about his mother's infidelity had made him punish his innocent brother.

Tommy put his arm around Barbara and gently stroked George's head. Tomorrow he would ring Peter and tell him he was sorry. He hoped it might help both of them find peace.


	4. Chapter 4

When Tommy woke, Barbara was cuddled next to him. It took a few seconds to remember what had happened. He opened his eyes looking for George but he was nowhere in sight. Tommy checked his ensuite then began a systematic search of his house. He started with the most likely places, the kitchen and then lounge room where he kept the television.

Tommy was becoming increasingly worried with each empty room. He went into his study to ring Hillier when he found George sitting by his old radio trying to tune it. "Hello, what are you doing in here?"

George looked up guiltily. "Sorry, Dad. I was trying to get your radio to work."

"Are you bored? Do you want to watch TV?"

The boy shook his head. "No. I like the radio, but yours doesn't work."

"It should. What sort of music do you like to listen to?" Tommy hoped his answer was not going to be hip hop.

"I shouldn't tell you. My teacher says people will laugh at me."

"I promise I won't laugh, George."

The boy tilted his head to consider it. "I like opera."

Tommy was dumbfounded. "Really? So do I."

George grinned at him and flicked his hair out of his eyes. "Mum told me that. She says... said... that I am too much like you at times. Normally I was getting into trouble."

"I get into trouble too," Tommy confessed.

"Does Auntie Barbara yell at you?"

"A lot. What are you two doing in here?"

"Hi, Auntie Barbara."

Tommy turned to see Barbara leaning against the door jamb watching them. Her hair was messy and she had her arms folded which pulled up his pyjama top tantalizingly close to the top of her thighs. Smilingly broadly, Tommy made no secret of letting his eyes wander over her legs. When she blushed, he knew she understood. He held his arm out to her and when she walked over, he cuddled her close and gave her a quick kiss.

George seemed oblivious to their interactions and was staring at the dial of Tommy's radio. "I was looking to see if you can get HF on this. I like to listen to Deutsche Welle."

Tommy frowned. "In English?"

"No," George said giving him a look that clearly implied his father was being silly. "It's in German. I was using it to teach myself German until Uncle Pat smashed my radio. Kannst du Deutsch sprechen?"

After yesterday, Tommy had believed nothing much could shock him, but George had managed. "Some. In understand more than I can speak. You're teaching yourself to speak German?"

"Yeah, so I can understand the operas. But I'm not very good. I have trouble with boy objects and girl objects. I get them mixed up. I have a big chart I made at home to help me."

"That always confuses me too," Tommy said conspiratorially.

"Doesn't matter. Your radio doesn't do HF." Tommy heard George trying to hide his disappointment. "Auntie Barbara, can I have some toast?"

Barbara reached out her hand. "Sure, come on. Toast is my speciality."

* * *

While George had his shower Tommy told Barbara about George's interest in opera. She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Wonderful. I'm going to have opera playing throughout the house all the time."

Tommy gave her a quick kiss. "You can have half an hour each day to play that modern stuff you listen to."

"Oh can I m'lord? How generous."

"I thought so," he replied smugly.

Their kiss was interrupted. "Auntie Barbara!"

She turned to Tommy. "Why am I suddenly an aunt?"

"I don't know, but someone seems to want you."

"Auntie Barbara!"

"Coming."

Barbara returned with a frown. "What's wrong?" Tommy asked.

"He found blood on his shirt. I don't know if it's his or Sally's but it distressed him. He can't wear it. We have to take him shopping."

"What's he in now?"

"One of your shirts. It's way too big but under his coat it'll do for this morning."

Tommy fished in his wallet and pulled out his credit card. "Do you mind taking him? Mother is arriving soon. It might be best for me to meet her alone and settle her down before she sees George."

"Or me."

Tommy put his arm around her waist and pulled her close. "She will approve of us. Possibly not the way she was told, but she likes you."

"We'll see. You're trusting me with your card?

"Of course, and I'll get you one as soon as I can. The pin is your day and month of birth."

Barbara blushed and looked at him lovingly before trying to hide her embarrassment. "What's the limit in case I fancy a new yacht?"

"Your common sense. I don't know where to suggest you take him but I can make some enquiries."

"George and I are Marks and Spencer people. They'll have enough choice. You can take him to his first bespoke tailor as a father-son bonding thing later. Right now he just needs clothes."

"Okay. Get one outfit that's a bit more formal. Maybe a blazer if they have one and a collared shirt. I know Mother will want to..."

"Tommy, he's not on display. Your mother has to accept him as he is. I'll let him choose what he likes to wear, within reason. If he wants one, that's fine but with so much changing, he needs to have some control over his life."

"Yes, of course. I'm sorry. Will you buy him an HF radio too please? That might help him settle in."

"Why don't you take him out later to choose one? Show him you're interested in his hobbies."

Tommy smiled then gave her a kiss. "We'll both take him. Ring me if you need me. I'll just be pacing while I wait for my lecture about responsible parenting and contraception from Mother."

* * *

Dorothy marched from the cab to his door. Tommy had it open ready to greet her. "Good morning, Mother," he said as cheerfully as he could.

"Where's my grandson?"

Tommy kissed his mother on the cheek. "Barbara's taken him shopping. All his clothes were left at the crime scene."

Dorothy handed him her small suitcase and a cakebox then took off her coat. "One chocolate cake as requested. I had the cab stop at a cakeshop on the way from the airport. It looks drier than I'd like but it'll have to do."

"Thank you."

"So, an Australian?"

"He was born here, but he has a bit of an accent from his mother."

Dorothy tutted. "So he sounds as if he's speaking through his nose?"

Tommy smiled at her description. "No, he doesn't. He's forthright and very intelligent. He's teaching himself German."

"At seven?"

"Yes. I have to keep remembering that. He seems older."

"And when were you going to tell me you were engaged to Barbara?"

"I only asked her a few hours before we met George." It took Tommy a few seconds to realise that was only fourteen hours ago. "I would have rung you today with the good news."

"You've obviously been sleeping together for a while. It might have been nice to know you were seeing each other."

Tommy tried to keep his temper under control. "Actually we're not. I was about to change that when we got the call about George. This crept up on us."

"Really? I've wondered how long it would be before you both came to your senses."

"So you approve?"

"Despite your fantasies about me, I'm not heartless. Of course I approve if she's going to make you happy. How does she feel about George?"

"They get on well. Barbara's great with kids."

"Good. Are you going to leave me standing in your hall or are you going to offer me a cup of tea? I've been up since five."

"Sorry. Of course. Come through to the kitchen."

"And don't think you've wiggled out of it. I want to known everything, starting with how you met George's mother."

* * *

"Dad!" George came tearing through the front door and raced into the kitchen. He skidded to a halt when he saw Dorothy. "G'day." George looked at his grandmother. "Er, good morning, Mrs Lynley."

Dorothy gave him a warm smile. "Hello, young man. Don't you look handsome in your new clothes?"

George was dressed in pair of mid-blue jeans with a light blue shirt and soft cut navy blazer. His chestnut belt matched shiny new boots. It was not the type of clothing Tommy imagined Barbara would have chosen. "Yes, very smart indeed. Did you chose that blazer, George?"

George turned to his father and nodded vigorously. "Auntie Barbara said I look like you," George said proudly. "She let me wear these home but I have to change so that I don't ruin them."

"Very sensible. Where is Auntie Barbara?"

"Here." He turned to see Barbara holding half a dozen bulging bags. "George had trouble deciding between a few things, so we ended up with more than I anticipated."

Tommy grinned at her and then turned to his son who was looking up anxiously. "That's good. It will save us going shopping again. You'll need a lot of clothes for when we go to Grandma's. George, come and say hello properly to your grandma."

George peered up at Dorothy and extended his hand. "G'day."

Dorothy shook his hand. "Hello, George. I brought chocolate cake but we don't want to get it on your new jacket. Why don't you take your father up while you get changed, and show him what else you bought while I chat to Auntie Barbara?"

"Okay."

"Back soon," Tommy said. He then kissed Barbara and whispered, "she's fine."

* * *

"Thanks for coming down Lady Asherton. Yesterday was a bit of a shock all round."

"I don't bite, Barbara. Call me Daze, or at least Dorothy. I'm happy for you both."

Barbara felt her face go red. "Thanks."

"When do plan to get married? Will it be at Howenstowe?"

"We haven't talked about any of that yet... Dorothy."

"Plenty of time. Tommy said you plan to bring George down after the funeral. Being away from London will give you more time to decide."

Barbara nodded. Life had rushed at her. She had steeled herself for a confrontation with his mother. In the face of her care and concern, Barbara suddenly felt overwhelmed. She turned away and tried not to let Dorothy see she was teary. Dorothy's arm came around her shoulder. "Sorry, I..."

"Don't be. Yesterday you were a detective having dinner with your friend and in less than twenty-four hours you are an instant mother, engaged to be married and about to become Lady Asherton. Anyone would need time to adjust to that. And you need some time alone with Tommy."

"I know, but George needs us."

"George has his grandmother too. What if I take him out tonight? There's an early session of The Flying Dutchman on at the Opera House. It's shortened and designed as an introduction for beginners. It might be perfect for him. That way you and Tommy can talk about what you want to do, openly and without the fear of saying the wrong thing in case little ears are listening. I'll take him to dinner somewhere first and get to know him. He'll trust me if we spend time together this afternoon."

"That would be wonderful, Dorothy. You don't mind?"

"It'll be my pleasure."


	5. Chapter 5

Tommy was impressed with his son's fashion sense. He listened attentively as George explained in great detail about his shopping trip while they removed the labels and hung the clothes in the wardrobe of the spare room. "Then Auntie Barbara said I needed three pairs of trousers, three shirts and three tee-shirts. But I don't like tee-shirts very much because they don't have a collar. Unless I'm playing football, then you don't need a collar. So she agreed to four shirts, a football shirt and a tee-shirt. I like blue ones. I don't like green but the checks were okay. Auntie Barbara said the checks were more casual. Do you think I got too much?"

Tommy ruffled George's hair. "No. You chose well. I like this one," he said selecting a shirt with blue, white and black checks.

"That's my favourite!"

"Mine too."

George took off his jacket. "Auntie Barbara picked my jacket, but I picked the shirt."

George's tone had changed and Tommy sensed he had something on his mind. "Yes, and it makes you look very grown up."

"I know why I need it," he said looking down at his boots.

Tommy put his arm around his son. "You never know when you need a jacket. Now put your check shirt on with your jeans. We're going out again after we have some chocolate cake. Did you have lunch with Auntie Barbara?"

"Yes."

George sounded strangely reticent. "Should I ask where?"

"No. Auntie Barbara said it was our secret."

"Oh, did she?" Tommy sensed junk food had been on the menu. "Don't let her lead you astray. I'll see you downstairs."

Tommy was still frowning when he entered the kitchen. He sensed he had walked in on a personal conversation. "Sorry," he said as he backed away.

"No, stay Tommy. Where's George?" Barbara asked.

"Getting changed. I promised him cake. You picked some nice clothes for him."

"He chose them. I thought he'd want tee-shirts but apparently he likes cotton shirts with collars. Reminds me of someone else I know."

Tommy smiled as he shrugged. He was about to speak when his mobile buzzed "it's Fothergill. I'll go into the study."

Tommy returned to find his mother cutting up the cake. "One slice each," she said firmly.

He accepted his slice. "They fast-tracked the DNA test. It confirms what I think we all knew. Now I have to decide what I want to do about the inheritance issue."

"What is there to decide?" his mother asked. "George was born to the role, figuratively and literally."

He heard George approaching. "We can discuss it later." Tommy turned to his son. "Here he is, just in time for cake."

George ignored the fork on his plate and lifted the cake to his mouth. With amazing dexterity, he managed to take an enormous bite. "This is you beaut cake, Grandma."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Yeah, too right."

Dorothy looked at Barbara. "Does he often lapse into the Antipodean dialect?"

Barbara smiled. "Yes, when he's excited. Ask him about tonight."

Dorothy placed her plate on the table. "George, I happen to know someone who can get seats to tonight's performance of The Flying Dutchman. But I don't have anyone to go with, unless you'd like to escort me?"

"Fair dinkum?"

"I don't know what that means, George. Do you want to come? We can go to dinner first."

"Yes, please. Thank you Grandma." George went and embraced Dorothy, who after a long hug, suddenly found something had flown into her eye.

* * *

Dorothy chose to stay and settle into her room while Tommy and Barbara drove over to Wandsworth. Tommy had sourced a shop stocking a wide range of short wave receivers. The shop was in an unassuming building on a quiet backstreet. Inside there was an amazing collection of modern and antique radio equipment. George stood still as his wide eyes surveyed the shelves.

Tommy explained their requirements to the balding man with thick glasses who was wandering around in a grey dustcoat. Red and black pens were neatly lined up in his breast pocket, lending the slightly stooped man an air of quaint nerdism. The man peered at George. "So young man, what stations to you listen to?"

Tommy left his son to select a radio. The boy and the storekeeper started talking about broadcast frequencies and the impact of solar flares. He turned to Barbara. "So, we have a few hours to ourselves tonight."

"Your mother wants us to talk about everything and set a date for our wedding."

Tommy noticed the strain in her voice. "That can wait. In my mind I can still see you naked on my bed. I think we should continue where we left off." He ran his hand seductively down her arm.

"I don't know if I can."

Tommy looked horrified. "Why not?"

"With all this, it doesn't seem right."

"You'd say if all this was too much for you?"

Barbara put her hand on his hip. "Yes. I'm not planning on leaving you, Tommy."

"Good, but reassure me it is because you want to stay and not because you feel obligated."

"I love you, and George. I'm just tired."

"Dad!"

"You've been summonsed."

* * *

Tommy had been surprised when George chose one of the cheaper sets with a small external antenna and headphones. They set it up in his bedroom and Tommy endured ten minutes of whirring, whining static as George located his stations. "Ten more minutes, then you have to have a shower and get ready to go out with Grandma."

"Okay." Tommy was almost outside the door when George asked, "what happened to Grandpa?"

He returned and sat on the bed. "He died many years ago, when I was a teenager."

"I thought if I had a Grandpa, someone would have said. My friend at school has a grandpa." George came and stood in front of his father. "Do you miss him?"

"Yes, but it gets easier with time."

George sniffed then stretched out his arms.

Tommy found Barbara in the lounge room rubbing her feet. She looked up. "He seemed excited."

"He is, but he also asked about my father and whether I miss him. I think he was wondering if he'll always miss his mother. When I hugged him I was wondering which one of us was doing the comforting."

"I'll go up soon and check he's okay."

"Good idea. Do you want to order in Indian for dinner?"

"Tommy, I need clothes and things too. I hoped we might go over to my place."

"Of course. I'm sorry. I should have thought about that. We can eat at the pub if you like."

Barbara gave him an appreciative smile."Yeah, that'd be good."

"Dad!"

Barbara laughed. "You're popular."

Tommy rolled his eyes. "I'll be back."

Ten minutes later, Tommy flopped next to her on the couch. "He wasn't sure what to wear. He didn't want Mother to be disappointed in him. I gave him a red handkerchief to wear in his jacket pocket. He's in the shower."

"I'm a bit worried about him. He's trying really hard today to impress us and fit in, but I think he's putting on a brave face."

Tommy nodded. "Maybe he cried himself out last night? He more or less said earlier that he thought you'd bought him the jacket for the funeral."

Barbara raised her eyebrows. "I never said anything like that."

"I know. He's smart enough to make assumptions. Needing it for tonight will help. He's trying very hard to appear grown up."

"I noticed that too."

Tommy sighed. "I'm concerned that he thinks that we might send him away if we don't like him. I don't know how to convince that won't happen."

"We just have to keep reassuring him. I asked your mother not to mention anything about the whole earl thing. She thinks he should be told, and I agree, but not yet. Not until he knows we love him for who he is and not just because he's an instant heir."

"Thank you. I hadn't even thought about that. He doesn't need anything else to worry about. I'll tell him when we take him to Howenstowe. The house might give him some clues that's it's not the average farm. I thought we might go down after the funeral."

"When is the funeral?"

"I don't know. I assumed..."

"Sally didn't have any relatives other than George, Tommy. There may not be anyone to make plans."

"I should make some calls. I think it's important for George that it's done the right way."

* * *

George stood nervously at the bottom of the stairs waiting for his grandmother. Dorothy had not packed for the opera but always travelled with one evening outfit flexible for most occasions. Her full, silky black trousers fell around her legs like a skirt and offset her flowing red blouse. "Wow, Grandma!"

Tommy showed George how to offer his arm to a lady. "Remember to watch out for her and not let her out of you sight."

"I won't."

"We make a lovely couple, don't we George? Look, your handkerchief matches my blouse. Barbara dear, please take our selfie on your phone. We need a record of George's first live opera."

Barbara took three photos. "Great."

"We should be home by ten," Dorothy told Tommy.

"Then it's straight to bed for you young man. You've had a big day." Barbara bent down and kissed him on the cheek. George blushed and looked down at his shoes.

* * *

Two hours later, they had picked up clothes and necessities from Barbara's flat, had eaten a generous serving of the house's special lamb casserole over a couple of pints at her local pub, and were home again. As soon as the door closed, Tommy enveloped Barbara in a big hug.

"Do you want another beer," he asked as they made their way to the lounge room.

"Yeah, thanks."

When he returned, Tommy sat on the couch. "There's something on your mind."

Barbara let out a long sigh. "Your mother will expect us to have finalised our plans. We also have to think about George's schooling, and Sally's funeral, and our living arrangements, and my flat..."

Tommy put his arm around her and pulled her close. "What's wrong? It's not like you to fret. You'd normally tell me to just deal with one thing at a time."

"I know. It's just that twenty-four hours ago you hadn't even kissed me. Now I'm living here, getting married to an earl, I have a seven-year-old stepson, and I'll probably have to give up work."

Tommy was concerned. She was usually stoic. He put down his beer and cuddled her. "Barbara, I understand. Everything's moved quickly for me too and some of that I can't change. I want you to live with me, not for George, but because I want to fall asleep in each other's arms and wake up snuggled next to the only person who understands me, the only person who truly loves me. A piece of paper doesn't change that, so we don't have to get married until you're ready. If it never happens, that's okay. I'd never pressure you. I haven't thought about work yet, but if you need to keep working, I'd never stop that. I know I can be selfish, and arrogant, but I want you to be happy."

Barbara reached up and stroked his cheek. "I know. Thank you."

Their kiss was slow and meaningful. Tommy felt some of the tension drain from her. He slowly began to massage her shoulders and back, earning a satisfied groan. "Let's go upstairs where I can do this properly."


	6. Chapter 6

Tommy left the lights off as he helped Barbara out of her clothes. "Lie face down," he said softly, "and I'll help get rid of that stress."

He used his fingertips to traces circles on her back to relax her. "Oh, that's goooood, Tommy!"

"I have other techniques too." He kissed her, then used the heel of his hands in long strokes from the base of her spine up and out over her shoulder blades. "You're very tense."

"Mmm, not as much as I was."

"Good." As he knelt above her, he pulled off his shirt then gently kneaded the knots in her shoulders, soothing them with light kisses. He stood and stripped off his trousers before his thumbs set to work loosening her tired calves.

After several minutes Barbara seemed to sink deeper on the bed and started to snore softly. "Just as well my motives were pure," Tommy said. He lay down and smiled as he draped his arm over her and cuddled into her side. "I wish you knew how much I love you."

"I do," she mumbled. "Is that all?"

"You fell asleep," he protested.

"Not really. Don't stop. Thighs."

After a few minutes, Tommy found his massage became more of a gentle caress. As he slipped his hands under the small piece of cloth covering her buttocks, her soft moans took on a different timbre. Tommy used his tongue to trace a wet circle on the small of her back. "Let me do your front."

They made love slowly. Every exploratory touch added new wonder and delight. Tommy found spots on her body that made her giggle and squirm. Others, when he toyed with them, had her pressing up against him as she kissed him savagely. Her fingertips were both tentative and bold. As their skin grew used to the feel of each other, they lost any self-consciousness or awkwardness and found a rhythm that sated years of need for each other. Contented, they gently kissed until they both drifted into a deep sleep.

* * *

Tommy dreamt he could hear a horse crying. It was close and sounded distressed. Still half asleep, he opened one eye. The horse was in his hallway. _I don't have any horses in London._ "George!"

He slipped out of Barbara's arms and grabbed his robe from the back of his door. The alarm clock told him it was almost four o'clock. He opened his door and found his pyjama-clad mother standing at George's door. "Mother! Is George alright?"

"He was fine tonight. He enjoyed himself and his grasp of German is impressive. There were no lights on when we got home and we could hear one of you snoring. George got the giggles, but I got him to clean his teeth then I put him to bed."

"Thank you. I'll go to him."

"Call me if you need me."

Tommy nodded then slowly opened his son's bedroom door. George was huddled into a ball on his bed. Tommy found the box of tissues on the bedside table then sat on the bed and gave a handful to the boy. George took them and forcefully blew his nose. "I heard you crying."

"I'm sorry, Dad."

"Don't be." George sat up and Tommy put his arm around his son, gently stroking his head.

"Where's Auntie Barbara?"

"I'm here, George."

Tommy had not heard her come in. Dressed in his shirt, loosely done up, Barbara came and sat beside them. To Tommy's dismay, George climbed from his lap and cuddled up next to her with his arms around her neck and his face buried in her shoulder.

"What if I get Dad to go and warm up our bed, then when you're ready, we'll come and join him?"

"O...kay,"

It was thirty minutes before George came padding into the room. He climbed up on the bed and without a word, nestled into Tommy's arms. Barbara cuddled behind George and leant over and whispered to Tommy, "I'll explain in the morning."

* * *

George was uncharacteristically quiet. After breakfast, he asked to be excused so he could listen to the short wave. "I'll come and get you when it's time for lunch," Tommy said, "but come down before if you want to."

"Righto."

Tommy frowned and looked at Barbara. "I'm worried about him."

"He's so much like you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he snapped.

Barbara frowned. "Nothing bad." She walked over and gave him a hug. When he cuddled her back, she gave him a gentle kiss.

"Sorry, Barbara. I don't want us to fight."

Barbara frowned at him. "Why would we fight?"

"I don't know. I suppose I was hurt when he turned to you. I know that's stupid, and selfish."

"And understandable. You're his father. I'm just your girlfriend."

"No, you're not. I'm sorry, Barbara, I shouldn't be jealous of you. We're both going to be his parents. He met us together and to him you're as much a part of the family as Mother or me. He can see I love you. It's natural he loves you too."

"Can you ask Dorothy to look after him while we go into work?"

"Work?"

"It's important. It's about George."

He hated it when she was cryptic but he complied. "I told him we had to go to work, but we'd be back for lunch. Dorothy's going to play some of my operas for him and explain them."

"Good, they'll both enjoy that."

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" he asked as they settled into his car.

"I needed to talk to you alone."

"So we're not going into the office."

"I think we should. I want to listen to the tapes they made of George's and Pat Krillen's interviews. We keep forgetting that George saw his mother murdered."

"I haven't forgotten it!"

Barbara took a deep breath. Tommy knew he was testing her patience. "George blames himself for his mother's death."

"We know that's not true. Krillen was sadistic."

"George can't understand that. He's seven. To him, for some reason, it's his fault."

"So that's why he was crying."

"Not exactly. He has major guilt issues. He was trying not to be heard but he couldn't stop it. He needed us but I think he was ashamed that you found him crying. Do you know a Lord Daffodil?"

"Who?"

"Anyone who sounds like daffodil? Someone Dorothy knew at the opera?"

"Oh, Lord Daveyville perhaps."

"Probably. Dorothy had Daveyville take George to the bathroom during interval."

"I'll kill him!"

"Watch the road! No, nothing like that happened. Daffodil told George that you are a very important man and that George needed to be on his best behaviour if he lived with you."

"Meddling old fool!"

"George is confused. He already loved you because his mother told him about you. You were familiar even though you'd never met. If he loses that love, he thinks he'll have nothing. When he woke up, he thought of his mother and realised that he had enjoyed himself yesterday. He was crying because he felt guilty. She died and the next day he was having a wonderful time with a whole new family."

"Why did he turn to you and not me?"

"I think it's because his mother loved him unconditionally. He thinks women do that but men only love you if you're worthy. He begged me to get you give him a second chance. He was crying in my arms because you found him crying. He desperately wants you to love him. He's scared you will want to send him away. He heard Lord bloody Daffodil talking to Dorothy about a school in Australia. Geelong Grammar or something like that."

"Mother can't want to sent him away, surely!"

"I doubt it. She dotes on him."

"Did you tell him that we love him?"

"Yes, of course. I told him no one was sending him away and that if he went into our room, you'd be waiting to cuddle him and keep him safe."

Tommy pulled into the carpark of New Scotland Yard. "He seemed so sad this morning. We should be home with him. I still don't know why we're here."

"I thought it might reveal more about what he is thinking and give us some clues how to help him."

* * *

It took a few minutes to convince Hillier that they needed to hear the tapes. In the end, Barbara put on a near tearful performance about the boy that tugged at Hillier's heartstrings. As the three of them listened, it was Tommy who became emotional when George told Rose and Moira how Krillen had hit his mother because George had done something Krillen didn't like. George had no idea what he had done wrong. It seemed as if it was a regular occurrence for his mother to be beaten.

"Why didn't she come to me? How could she expose George to that? Why didn't she leave?"

Barbara took his hand. "It's not always easy and straightforward."

"Well it should be! Nobody deserves that."

"We can't change it now. Let's finish listening to see if we can learn anything to help him now."

The tapes revealed that George had started to cry and the more he cried, the more Krillen hit his mother. George had tried to stop to protect his mother, but he had been unable to halt the flow of tears. He clearly believed that if he had been stronger and stopped crying, his mother would still be alive. Krillen's tape confirmed that the sadistic killer had taunted George as he beat Sally. He killed her because she had threatened to leave, not because George was crying, but he had wanted the child to be 'fucked up by it'.

Hillier turned off the tape. "Krillen was ex-Army special forces. Until two years ago he had a steady job as a sales executive for a company selling body armour. They were supplying the military. The company moved production to Asia and then soldiers began to die. The Asian manufacturer had substituted nylon blocks for kevlar to save costs and make a bigger profit. Krillen had a breakdown when the company folded. He blamed himself for killing the soldiers."

"This whole situation is so tragic," Barbara said.

Tommy ran his hand through his hair. "So George witnessed Krillen's breakdown?"

Hillier nodded. "Certainly some of the impact. Sally had stayed with him, but if she was thinking of leaving, the situation must have become intolerable."

Tommy stood. "At least this gives us an insight. Thank you, Sir."

"I know it's hard, Lynley. You might find a child psychiatrist is helpful."

As they walked back to the car, Tommy tried to decide what to do. "A psychiatrist might help," he told Barbars, "but he needs to believe we love him. How do I convince a child that I barely know that I love him? I don't come from a family where expressions of love come easily."

"What would convince you? George is your mini-me, Tommy. He has the same insecurities and needs, but he worships you. You weren't around to be imperfect. In his mind, you're invincible. He thinks he needs to be like you and he can't meet the standard he's setting himself. You need to let him in. Let him see that you are not perfect either."

"What if he stops loving me?"

"See! You are the same. He won't stop loving you any more than you could stop loving him. You'll find a way. Just be open."

"We could do it together."

"I love you, Tommy, but no. This is something I have to make you do on your own."


	7. Chapter 7

Tommy knocked on George's door and waited for him to answer. "G'day," he said when his son opened the door.

"G'day, Dad. Why didn't you come in?"

"I thought I might be disturbing you."

George frowned at him. "No, I was just about to listen to Conversations from Germany."

The boy sat at the desk in front of the radio and Tommy sat on the edge of the bed. After what Tommy thought was excessively dramatic introductory music, the announcer began. "Willkommen bei den Gesprächen aus Deutschland. Heute tag reden wir mit Professor Hoeft über den Salzgehalt des Rheins."

"Dad, what's salzgehalt?"

"Salt content. Professor Hoeft is going to discuss salinity levels in the Rhine River."

"The Rhine's not near the ocean."

"Not in Germany, but it is in the Netherlands. It enters the sea near Rotterdam."

George switched off the radio. "That one's too boring. I like it when they talk about literature or music."

Tommy shuffled up the bed until he was leaning against the headboard. He patted the bed beside him. "George, come and sit with me."

Warily, George climbed onto the bed. "I'm sorry."

"What on earth for?"

The boy shrugged. "Waking you last night?"

"I didn't mind. Auntie Barbara and I fell asleep. Otherwise, we would have said goodnight. It's not about that. There's something I should have told you yesterday, but I didn't know how."

"You want to send me to Australia." Tommy was alarmed to see tears welling up in George's eyes. The next time he saw Daveyville, he doubted he would be civil.

"No! I'm not sending you away."

"But I was crying."

"You're allowed to cry, George."

The boy shook his head. "No, it always makes it worse. Uncle Pat... if I cried..."

Tommy put his arms around him and held him tightly. "Uncle Pat's not here. In this house, you can cry as much as you need to."

George looked at his father as if he was making a momentous decision. "He hit her harder... because I was crying... I couldn't stop him, Dad. I tried... when Mummy fell, I tried to stop crying... I tried to keep him away."

Tommy held his son so tightly that he risked suffocating him. "None of it was your fault, George. None of it."

"But I couldn't stop him."

"I know, no one could have stopped him." The boy buried his head and sobbed against Tommy's chest. It broke his heart to feel George's anguish. He felt the anger rise in him for what that man had done to his son.

Eventually, George's tears slowed. Tommy lifted him up so he could look into his eyes. "I should have said this yesterday, but I didn't know how. When I first saw you, I knew you were my son. I hadn't even spoken to you and yet I loved you more than life itself. Auntie Barbara said you thought you needed to be brave or I'd send you away. Now that I've found you, I'll never send you away."

"But, if I..."

"No buts, George. I want you to be who you are, not pretend to be someone or something different to please me. I love you, George. That's not dependent on anything. You don't need good grades at school or to behave in a particular way. I think you're a wonderfully intelligent, articulate and amazing boy. I'm very proud of you, and I'm honoured to be your father."

"Fair dinkum?"

"Fair dinkum."

For the first time, Tommy saw his son really smile. His whole face lit up. "I love you too, Dad. And Auntie Barbara. And I like Grandma." George's arms tightened around his father's neck.

"Did Grandma tell you that you have another aunt and uncle?"

He shook his head. "No."

"I have an older sister, Judith and a younger brother, Peter. You can meet them soon."

"What are they like?"

"You'll like Auntie Judith. She has a farm too. We can go and visit her if you like."

"Okay. Where does Uncle Peter live?"

"I don't know. Somewhere in London." Tommy's guilt intensified when he saw George frown. "We don't speak much."

"Why not?"

"I did something very wrong. When our father died, Peter was about your age. I told him to be a man and not to cry. I abandoned him when he needed me most. It damaged us both. I won't let that happen again with you."

George cuddlted into his father. "It'll be okay, Dad. You should tell him you're sorry."

* * *

A week later, Tommy pulled into the driveway of Howenstowe. He watched in the rear-view mirror as George's eyes darted everywhere, trying to take it all in. "Grandma lives here?"

"Yes, this is where I grew up."

George jumped out of the car as soon as Tommy stopped. Dorothy was waiting on the gravel in front of the porch. George ran over and hugged her before racing back to help his father with their cases.

"Well, what do you think, George?" Tommy asked.

"It's humungous. I might get lost."

Barbara laughed. "I did, the first time I came here. Perhaps we should set a trail of breadcrumbs?"

George shook his head. "No, that might bring rats."

Tommy could not help but laugh. Barbara ruffled the lad's hair. "You sound more like your father every day! Grandma might give us a tour if you ask her nicely. Hello, Dorothy."

Dorothy gave Barbara and Tommy a quick greeting kiss. "The first stop on my tour will be the kitchen. I have chocolate cake."

George dropped the second case he was trying to carry and took his grandmother's hand. "I'm starving. You live too far from London."

After cake and a tour of the house, Barbara took George to explore the gardens. Tommy sat with his mother drinking tea on the rear terrace.

"It was a lovely funeral service, Tommy."

"I wanted George to have as good a memory of it as possible. He was very brave I thought."

Dorothy nodded. "Yes, he reminded me so much of you as he stood there dressed in his jacket and shirt and those fawn trousers. He kept running his hand through his hair, just the way you always have. He'll be a wonderful earl one day. When are you going to tell him that he is heir presumptive?"

"Soon." His mother's head tilted down so that she could look down her nose at him. "While we're here," he conceded.

"Good. It's better not to keep secrets from him. What did the child psychologist say?"

"Not much considering his fee. He said that George just needs to feel loved and safe. We are going to make mistakes with him, like all parents, but we don't need to fuss overly. Just try to treat him like a normal boy."

"That's good. I was worried when he stayed so long at the graveside and was talking to his mother."

"Barbara said it was relatively normal for people to do that. There were things he probably felt he needed to tell her."

"Yes, I imagine we all have moments like that. Does he resent Barbara at all?"

"No, he seems to adore her. He follows her around like a little puppy."

Dorothy smiled. "Just like you then."

"Yes, just like me."

"And his schooling?"

"I met his teacher. He is in a gifted programme at the school. We are going to keep him there until the end of the school year and then decide. It's actually not that far from Belgravia."

"That will make the transition easier I think. Unless his friends remind him too much of the past."

"His teacher said he doesn't mix much. That's at odds with his behaviour at home. Apart from his German radio shows, he likes company. As I said, he likes being with Barbara."

"It's better that than resent her for trying to be his mother."

"Yes, she talks to him about her. Asks questions and draws out a lot of his goid memories of her. I think she's trying make sure he can remember her later on. The police sent over George's things from the house yesterday."

"How did he react to that?"

"He was sad about some of it, yet happily showed me other things. I let him put whatever he wanted in his room. He didn't want to put up the picture of Sally. I hope he changes his mind about that."

"How's Barbara coping?"

"She's been my rock. We haven't had as much time together as I would like, but as you can see, she's excellent with George." Tommy looked lovingly at her as she chased George and the house dog, Ruggles, around the garden.

"Make time for her too, Tommy. Don't just be co-parents."

"It's a bit hard with George. Most nights I wake to find he's crawled into bed with us, so we can't even sleep naked."

"Tommy! I don't need that level of detail. While you're here, you two could spend a night or two in St Ives. George will be safe here."

"We might. Thank you."

"And your wedding plans?"

"We haven't talked about it. Barbara wants George settled first."

"Don't leave it too long, Tommy, if it's what you both want."

"It is. I'll talk to her while we're here."

* * *

Tommy and Barbara tucked George in and kissed him goodnight. "You know where our bedroom is if you need us?"

"Yes, Auntie Barbara."

"See you in the morning," Tommy said, "and if you want to, tomorrow we can walk up to the cliffs."

"Okay. Night."

"He's tired," Barbara said as they stripped off their clothes ready to change for bed.

"So am I."

"That's a pity."

Tommy turned to look at her. She was standing in just her underwear and had her hands behind her back ready to open her bra. "Not that tired."

"Good." Barbara let her bra fall to the floor as he walked towards her.

Their kiss was slow and tender. Tommy walked her backwards until her knees crumpled against the mattress. "Have I told you how much I love you lately, Barbara?"

"Why don't you show me?" Tommy's hands and mouth honed in on the areas he had discovered earlier in the week that drove her wild. "Oh, sweet... Oh, yes. It seems... you love me... a lot!"

Tommy smiled against the skin of her belly. "I do."


	8. Chapter 8

Their first week at Howenstowe passed quickly. Tommy had started to teach George and Barbara to ride. His son was unafraid and a natural. Sadly, Barbara found the experience daunting, even on his oldest, most placid mare. He admired the way she persisted. With time, she would learn to trust the horse and then it would obey her.

He had smiled at the relief on her face when the rain had changed their afternoon plans from a riding lesson into a Monopoly game in the library. To Tommy's amusement, George had a hard-nosed business streak, and the two Lynley boys had almost wiped Barbara off the board.

"You're ganging up on me," she protested.

"No, Aunty Barbara, you're just not very good," George said with the brutal honesty only children could manage.

Tommy could not contain his laughter. He and Barbara exchanged bemused looks before she grabbed George and wrestled him to the ground. "Right, well that does it, young man. I might be lousy at Monopoly, but I'm a world champion tickler!"

Watching them together, Tommy thought that anyone who did not know would assume they were mother and son. Since their father-son talk had reassured him, George had bonded with both of them far more quickly than Tommy had imagined possible. His nightmares had eased, and George was sleeping through most nights in his own room, a fact Tommy was putting to good use.

Barbara brought out a gentleness in Tommy that he had been hiding far too long. He could expose himself completely to her and know she would never harm him. Just as they had always shared a connection as partners and friends, as lovers, they had found physical ecstasy and spiritual serenity. For the first time in his life, he was totally and utterly in love.

A little hand reached up and pulled him onto the floor. A giant game of tickles created twisting limbs and squeals of delight. It ended in a bear hug with his arms around Barbara and his son squeezed in between them. Tommy was happy.

"Dad, who are those men?"

Tommy followed his son's gaze. "They're your ancestors. That one over there is my father. The one on his left is his father."

George went and examined the large portraits that hung around the room. "George Lynley, Sixth Earl of Asherton, Was I named after him?"

"No, your mother never told me about you, and she didn't know of my grandfather. It's a co-incidence."

"Okay." George still seemed puzzled as he examined the other oil paintings in their ornate gilded frames. "They're all Earls of Asherton. Are you an earl?"

Tommy looked at Barbara. She nodded. He took a deep breath. "Yes, I'm the Eighth Earl. One day, you will be the Ninth Earl."

"What's an earl?"

"Do you remember stories about King Arthur and his Round Table?" George nodded. "Well, his men were knights. Earls are like knights."

"So, you're a knight?"

"In a way."

"Do you have your own army?"

"No. These days, it's more about owning land."

George stroked his chin. "Do you have a big castle? With a moat?"

"No, only this house and all the land around here, including Nanrunnel."

George continued to study the portraits. "Do you own the people too?"

"No, but they live in my houses, so they pay me rent."

George wandered across and sat on the floor next to his father. "Are you rich?"

"Yes, relatively."

"Then why do you and Auntie Barbara have to work in the police?"

"I'm not rich, George. Far from it," Barbara said. "I grew up in Acton."

"Out past Hammersmith?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"But you will be rich when you marry Dad."

"Yes, she will," Tommy agreed. "George, we are police because we want to help people. We find out who hurts them and then we make sure the bad people go to prison for a very long time."

"Have you ever been shot?"

Tommy tilted his head. Memories of watching Barbara and Helen flooded his mind. "What made you ask that?"

"On TV. Police get shot all the time."

"No, I've never been shot, George."

"I have," Barbara said. Tommy frowned, but her eyes told him that George needed to know.

"But I'm okay now."

The boy scrambled across the floor and hugged Barbara. "Can't you be a librarian?"

"A librarian?" she asked as she stroked his head.

"Librarians don't get shot."

* * *

Hours later, Tommy kissed Barbara as they stood under the running water of his shower. "I've been thinking about this all day."

"Not tonight, Tommy."

"Why not? Have I upset you? Is that why you didn't want to go away for the night?"

"No! I want to make love to you, I really, REALLY want to. It's just getting to a dangerous time of the month and if I'm feeling..."

"Horny?" he asked mischievously when she did not complete her sentence.

"Yes," said shyly, looking away.

Tommy took the soap and began to lather her back. "I'd never pressure you, Barbara."

"I know. I'm probably being overcautious. At my age, it might take a while even when we do start trying. If that's what you want."

Tommy rested his hand on her belly. "Yes, it is what I want. I want us to have children. It sounds a tad caveman, but I want you to have my children. And I don't mind if it does happen straight away. But you have to decide when the time's right for you."

Barbara reached up and pulled his head under the water and kissed him in a way that would definitely test his willpower. As she moved her body closer, he groaned loudly.

"I guess there are other things we can do to satisfy each other," she said sliding her hand up his leg.

"Hmm, oh yes… there are. I also have a pack of condoms in my bag if you want to take those sorts of precautions."

"You do? I knew you were a bright man."

"I bought them the morning after you called me Tommy. I had them for that night before we got the call about Geor... Oh! Oh, Barbara, mmm."

* * *

Afterwards, as Barbara lay in his arms, Tommy could tell something was on her mind. "What's wrong?"

"I keep thinking about George's reaction to learning I'd been shot. He was scared."

"He's lost his mother violently. It's natural for him to be concerned."

"Tommy, don't be upset, but do you think we've done enough?"

"With George? Yes, but I'll keep taking him to the psychologist while ever she thinks it is helping."

"I didn't mean with George. I meant the job. I've been thinking about resigning to focus on you and George, but..."

Tommy stroked her hair and gently kissed the top of her head. "If you resign then you'll only worry more about me."

Barbara nodded. "Yeah, but I can't ask you to give it up too."

"You can. You're going to be my wife."

"I'd never try to stop you doing something that's important to you, Tommy."

"I know. I've already told Hillier it is unlikely I'll return. And if I'm honest, I was hoping you'd feel the same way. I know you said you felt pressured into giving it away last week. I said then, and I still mean it, I'd never ask you to give it up, but I couldn't bear to lose you."

"So, what are you saying, Tommy?"

"That maybe it's time we both resign. I want to spend my time with you and George and any other little Lynleys that come along. I don't want either of us under the pressure we used to have."

"We'll both miss our time at the pub, and late nights trying to piece together the clues to find murderers."

"Yes, but I want you involved in everything - running the estate, raising our family. We can find things to interest us. With enough time, I might even be able to teach you to ride." Tommy rubbed his chest where she had elbowed him. "Oww!"

"Will it be enough for you?"

"Barbara, you'd be enough for me. But we've been blessed with George, and he's a handful, in a wonderful way. We'll be fine."

"Yeah, we will."

"So, when will you do me the honour of marrying me?"

"Five weeks on Saturday, as long as George agrees."

"He can't rule our life, Barbara."

"I know, but he's had a lot of changes. We should make sure he will be okay with it."

Tommy nodded. "My ever-thoughtful lover. Why five weeks?"

"Long enough to give the month's notice and organise a few basics, but not long enough for it to become a three-ring circus."

"Agreed. Here or London?"

"London."

"Church? Registry office? Park?"

"What about the canteen at Scotland Yard?"

"Havers!" Tommy sat up with a start allowing his fiancée to fall flat on the bed.

Barbara began laughing. "Got you!" Tommy huffed loudly to make it clear he was unamused, but his broad grin gave it away. "You choose, Tommy. Just so long as there are no more than thirty guests."

"Done. We'll talk to George in the morning." He bent over and kissed her. When he sensed she was lost in the kiss, he brought up his hands and began to tickle her sides.

* * *

George was late to breakfast. Tommy found him outside playing with the dog. "What are doing out here? Are you hungry?"

"No," the boy muttered.

"What's the matter, George?"

"I Googled being an earl then I asked Grandma."

"And?"

"She said because you only have one title that I should be called Lord Lynley until you die, then I'm Lord Asherton."

"Yes, I was called Lord Lynley when I was at school."

"I don't want you to die!"

"Neither do I, and I am going to make sure I do everything I can to stop that happening until you are all grown up and have a family of your own."

George had tears in his eyes. "Are you going to send me away to school? You said you'd never send me away, but Grandma said all the earls have gone to Eating, ever since… way back."

"Did she indeed." Tommy was furious with his meddling mother. "All the earl's have been to Eton. I went there when I was thirteen. But no, you don't have to go there. London has excellent schools, and if you go to one of those, you can live at home with Barbara and me."

"Will that mean I'm not a good earl?"

"No! Being my eldest son makes you the next Earl, not what school or university you go to, or even if you go to university."

"I want to go to Oxford, where you went. I want to study German and history. But I don't want to go to boarding school."

"Then you won't. Now run inside and have some breakfast. I need to speak to Grandma."

Tommy was still red in the face when he came back into the kitchen ten minutes later. Barbara came over and kissed him. "George told me what happened."

"I told her in no uncertain terms not to interfere. I don't think we should say anything about the wedding yet."

"Plenty of time." Barbara turned back to George. "More toast and Vegemite?"

* * *

That afternoon they rode up to the top of the cliffs. Tommy admired the way George was very patient in encouraging Barbara with her horse. "I made it!" she said at the top.

"You sound surprised," Tommy said.

"I am! I actually made it up here without falling off."

They tethered the horses to a tree and walked along the cliff path. Tommy pointed out landmarks and places where he used to hide as a boy. "So, if you run away, I'll know where to look."

"I won't run away, Dad!"

"Good." Tommy sat on the grass. Barbara snuggled up beside him, and the future Earl sat a few feet to his right, looking at the ocean. "George?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know what a best man is?"

"Like at a wedding?"

"Yes, exactly."

"Yeah, they're the ones who make funny speeches and post them on YouTube."

Tommy tried to keep a straight face. "Yes, some do that. They also help the groom with all the details of the wedding and make sure he gets there on time."

"Okay." The boy moved closer to his father, clearly intrigued.

"George, would you like to be my best man when Barbara and I get married?"

"Do I have to wear my jacket?"

"Not that one. I'll buy you a new one so that you are dressed just like me."

George's face broke into a broad grin. "Do I have to make a speech? I could do it in German!"

"You can make a speech if you like, but it has to be in English. Barbara can't speak German."

George looked at Barbara. "You can learn with me!"

Barbara smiled at him and ruffled his hair. "We won't have time. We were thinking of getting married soon. How do you feel about that?"

"Then we'd all be Lynleys. And you'd be the lady earless!"

"She'd be my countess."

"She'll still be Auntie Barbara."


	9. Chapter 9

Peter was waiting at a table by the window when Tommy arrived at the cafe. "Sorry, I'm late. The traffic was particularly heavy around Marble Arch today."

Tommy had been meeting his brother for coffee every Friday since he had returned from Cornwall. This was their fourth week, and they were slowly making progress. At first Peter had refused to accept Tommy's apology, arguing it was too long ago and too painful to be forgiven. Barbara had encouraged Tommy to persist and had suggested the regular meetings on neutral ground. The brothers talked initially about politics, Howenstowe and sport. Over the last few weeks they had been able to reminisce about their childhoods and their sister, Judith. Tommy hoped that they might soon be able to talk about the core of their issues and find equanimity.

"That's fine. I took the opportunity to try to chat up the blonde waitress."

Tommy glanced over to see a long set of shapely legs gliding across the floor. "Hmm, not bad," he said to humour Peter. The woman's legs were not a match for the soon-to-be Lady Asherton, even if Barbara's were considerably shorter.

"How's Barbara and Mini-me?"

"I do wish you wouldn't call him that."

"It's apt. He is so very much like you - the way he runs his hands through his hair, the way he dotes on Barbara, his taste in music and art, and even the way he likes to dress. It's only that hybrid psuedo-Australian accent that reminds me that you have not been shrunken in some time machine."

"Ugh! Anyway, he's well. He's very excited about the wedding tomorrow. You will keep an eye on him won't you? I want him to feel that he is being best man in every sense of the word, but he is only seven."

"Going on fifty! My, you have changed. You actually trust me to look out for your son?"

"Of course. Not even... I know you would never let him be hurt just to get back at me."

"Tempting, but no. He's a child. I know what it's like to be left rudderless while adults squabble."

It was the first time that the brothers had started to get to the core of their issues. Tommy was about to speak when his mobile rang. "I'd better answer it. Barbara's gone into the city for her final dress fitting. She's surprisingly nervous. "Hello."

It was not Barbara but George's school. He had gone missing. "And nobody knows where he went?... Yes, keep looking. I'll make some calls."

Peter frowned as he noisily sipped his coffee. "Problems?"

"George left the school during the recess. No one knows where he is. I need to ring Barbara."

"Hi."

"Not a good time, Tommy, I have some medieval torture garment on that they're trying to strangle me with."

There was no time for niceties. "George's run away."

"Run away?"

"He snuck out of school during recess. He's nowhere to be found. I thought he might have rung you. I'll ring Mother. She's at the house. Maybe he felt sick or something."

"I'll leave here as soon as I get this thing off. I'll see you at home. He'll be alright. He's sensible. They'll be a logical reason. Don't worry."

"Why would he run away? He always wants to be with us."

"Tommy. Take deep breath. Drive the route from the house to school. You'll find him."

"I hope so. I'll ring you."

Peter paid and then called their mother as they walked to Tommy's car. "Mother says he hasn't been there. She wants you to ring Sir David Hillier and start a manhunt."

"It's a bit early for that. I will ring Winston though and get him to look out for any reports. If we don't find him walking home, then I'll report him missing."

"Is it likely he went with someone from his past?"

"No. There was no one except Krillen, the man who beat him and murdered his mother. He'd never go with him."

Peter took a deep breath. "Tommy, is it possible that Krillen is free on bail? If George was the only witness, his case might be weakened if the boy disappeared."

Tommy shot an angry look at Peter. "You think I haven't thought about that? He's not on bail. I do worry that he might send a friend after George. That's why I always make sure we take him and pick him up from school. Something tells me George ran away himself. I just don't understand why, or where he could have gone."

"We'll find him."

Tommy drove quickly, ignoring orange lights where he would normally stop. They traced the route from the house to the school then drove back along alternative ways he may have walked. Tommy then drove to where George had lived with his mother. It was still boarded up. Tommy checked the perimeter. There was no sign of George and no indication anyone had broken in.

After calming his mother and leaving her with Peter, Tommy rang Barbara. "He's not home and wasn't anywhere to be found between here and the school."

"Tommy, calm down. He has a plan of some sort. Do you think he might have gone back to his old house?"

"We checked there too. No sign anyone had been there. Where would a boy his age go?" There was a long pause. "Barbara?"

"He might have gone to the cemetery to visit his mother. I'll get the cab to take me there now."

"Why didn't I think of that? I'm closer. I'll drive over and meet you there."

"See you soon. Bye."

"Barbara, I love you."

"I love you too. See you soon."

Tommy told Peter and his mother about Barbara's idea. "I can get there faster from here."

"I'll come with you big brother. If he's run away, he might not want to see you."

"Thanks, Peter." His brother's words had stung. George seemed very open and loving, and other than not wanting him to marry Barbara tomorrow, he could not think why he would want to run away.

There was a funeral procession near the entrance and they had to wait before they could drive up to the section where Sally was buried. "Over there!" Peter exclaimed.

Tommy turned to see George sitting by his mother's grave. The ground had only just begun to settle and on the yellowy mound of earth Tommy could see a bunch of new red flowers. Tommy parked the car in the car park closest to the grave. They alighted and stood behind the hedge watching George talking animately to the mound of earth.

"I didn't think to ask if he wanted to visit Sally. I'm a lousy father."

"You're not actually. You're a lousy brother, but you're a great father."

"Peter, what if I'm not a good husband either? Barbara deserves better. Maybe George can see that."

"Barbara won't let you be a bad husband, or father. She's the only person I've seen that can make you see sense. Remember at your engagement party when I made my speech?"

"I'm hardly likely to forget!"

"Yes, well I was a bit forthright I suppose. But while Helen was embarrassed, Barbara was the one with fire in her eyes ready to defend you. And she was the one you looked at for support. You married the wrong woman, Tommy. Helen was your friend. Barbara is your soulmate, or whatever term you want to use. You won't let each other down."

Tommy turned and hugged Peter. After a few seconds Peter awkwardly hugged him back. "Thank you."

"It's okay. And I'm sorry I held a grudge for so long. I think I expected you to become like Father, but you were only a boy yourself."

"A foolish one and it seems hereditary. He's going to get a piece of my mind for frightening us. Anything could have happened."

Peter put his hand on Tommy's arm. "No, don't. Just tell him how sorry you were that you didn't think to bring him here. He'll know he worried you. Now wait over there and let me talk to him while you call Barbara and Mother."

"You?"

"Sometimes boys need their uncles too."

Tommy watched as Peter walked slowly across to the grave. He phone his mother, then Winston and finally Barbara. "You were right. He's here. I failed him."

"No, you didn't. Sometimes boys need their mothers. I'm almost there. We can talk to him. See what's wrong. It might be nothing."

"It must be something. I'll wait here, by the big oak."

Barbara paid the cab and walked over to Tommy. Her hug may not have made him feel better, but he did feel less alone. "Peter's over there talking to him."

Barbara took his hand. "It'll be fine."

"I don't know what to say. I want to yell at him for frightening us and I just want to hug him."

"The right words will come."

Tommy and Barbara walked slowly towards the grave. Peter was crouching down, talking earnestly with George. The boy saw his father and ran over and hugged him around the waist. "I'm sorry. I thought I'd be back at school before you picked me up and you'd never know."

"You didn't think your teacher would miss you and ring me?"

"No," he replied sheepishly. "I won't do it again, I promise."

"If you want to visit Mummy, we can come whenever you like."

His son looked up and nodded. "I know she's not really here, but I had to tell her some things and thought..."

George took Barbara's hand. "I came to tell her all about Dad and learning to ride and how I'm going to be an earl and a best man."

Barbara smiled. "That's lovely, George."

"But I really came to tell her about you."

Tommy and Barbara exchanged a quick worried glance. "About me?"

"Yeah. I told her that you are really nice and that you love Dad very much, and that he loves you too. I said that you look after me and love me like she used to. She'd want to know that."

Tommy noticed tears in Barbara's eyes. "Yes," she said, "I love you and Dad very much."

George looked up. "Don't cry! I told her that she'd always be Mummy and that I loved her, but that I love you too. Now you're marrying Dad, it's silly to call you Auntie Barbara. People might think you're Tasmanian!"

"Tasmanian?"

"Yeah, Mummy used to say they married their brothers."

Tommy smiled at George. "I don't think that's true. Not all of them anyway."

"So anyway," George said showing the same irritation Tommy did when interrupted, "I can't call you Mummy but I thought...if you don't mind... I could call you Mum."

"That would be lovely." Tommy had never seen Barbara cry the way she did as she hugged George.

"Then why are you crying?"

"Because I'm happy."

"Me too!"

Tommy wrapped both of them in his arms and felt tears running down his cheeks. Peter put his hand on his shoulder. Tommy turned to look at him and saw tears in his brother's eyes.

"I'll make my own way back," he said before he turned and walked away.

The small family clung together for several minutes. "Are you ready to go?" Tommy asked George.

"Yep." The boy turned and looked once more at his mother's grave. "Bye, Mummy." He gave Tommy and Barbara his hands and they began to walk to the car. "I've got best-manning to do!


End file.
